Perfection is not Flawless
by Satsuriku-Sama
Summary: Three friends end up stuck in the game. What will become of them? Rating may go up.
1. Chapter 1

_I have no idea where I got the inspiration for this._

* * *

**Prologue: Perfect.**

**One: French wine.**

Mozart's memory could never be more honoured than what the owner of that studio in the noblest part in Paris did. She was invited to countless dance studios, all across the world, opportunities no dancer would dream of turning down. But, for the third time that month, Roxanne politely declined, and hung up the phone. She sighed, and went back to her morning exercises along with the teachers she paid to aid her, before the first batch of students arrived.

Breathing deeply in, she continued leading the teachers. Golden hair was pulled back into a tight knot behind her head. Blue eyes were slightly unfocused, her senses concentrating rather on the music. Stretching, posing, maintaining her posture, executing the steps, she made the rest of the group fade back to unimportant nothingness.

A swan amongst chickens.

* * *

**Two: Japanese Sake.**

The rushing of the water was calming on her senses. A monk sang in prayer from inside the temple, his deep voice echoing across the rice plantations. They taught discipline, harmony, balance and spiritual peace. Everything was cared for, down to the most infinitesimal detail.

Straight black hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, dark eyes narrowed in concentration. Her other equipment—swords, daggers and whips—was waiting on a flat stone, next to a fresh cup of tea one of the apprentices left there for her. The string of her bow was taut, her aim precise. She let go, but maintained her stance. The arrow whistled through the wind, hitting dead center on the target, splitting the previous arrow in two. The sound of bamboo breaking reached her well trained ears. Suppressing a smirk, Haruka took her tea and turned to the temple. Time to meditate and rest her sharpened senses.

A snake amongst worms.

* * *

**Three: Irish Whiskey.**

The sickening crunching noise from noses being broken, and the smacking of her fist against the opponent's flesh was like music to her ears. The screaming and cheering crowd egging her on, until the man twice her size lay unconscious on the floor, his face a bloody mess. The narrator took her bloodstained wrist and held it high in the air, pronouncing tonight's winner.

Scarlett was expertly controlling her breathing, not one single bead of sweat marred her dark makeup. Her violent red hair still looked like she just left the salon, tumbling loose on her shoulders and down her back in rich waves. Her sharp green eyes swept over the spectators, drinking in the sight of another glorious victory. She found the nearest camera and raised her other fist into the air, and roared victory, dazzling white teeth bared, glinting in the light of the arena.

A bear amongst pigs.


	2. Chapter 2

A black pair of slippers lay neatly next to light pink ones by the door. The smell of jasmine tea lingered on the air of the small, but neat apartment. Soft music swam in soothing waves across the living room. Two women sat by the table, quietly drinking their tea, talking softly about their day.

_BAM_

"Haru-chan! Roxie!"

Red chucks were thrown carelessly in the same corner as the slippers, and a sportsbag joined the pile. Red hair flew in all directions as socked feet scrambled to the living room and sweaty palms were slammed down on the table, making the delicate china clink at the harsh disturbance.

"Guess what I have!" without waiting for an answer, the hyperactive hands reached in a backpack and flailed around with a small case. One of the women calmly put down her cup. In a flash, the case switched hands. "You know, Haruka, sometimes you scare me with your ninja moves." The redhead sat down next to the Asian, who was currently inspecting the small case. Her face showed no emotion, as usual, but years living together made the other two notice her enthusiasm.

"Let me see." A quiet voice accompanied the delicate hand reaching for the case. As it was inspected, the soft clinking of china was the only noise, apart from the impatient rapping of knuckles on the table. "Haven't we played this already, Scarlett?" the blond woman asked.

"Roxie, this is the special edition!" hands flew everywhere as she explained all the wonderful extra features. Black and blue eyes met across the table as a smirk was shared between the Asian and the French woman. "I say we compare it." Breathless, the third woman left to sit in front of the TV, turning their much-loved X-BOX on.

As she waited for it to start, Scarlett thought about how her friends came to live with her.

She met Haruka in an international fighting exposition. While she waited for her turn to demonstrate her trainer's hard work, she watched the Orientals. Scoffing at the near dance-like movements, she started to turn away, but was transfixed as another woman entered the stage. A chilling silence swept over the audience. A few seconds ticked by, then the Taiko drums began. She was gracious, silent, fast and precise. If the weapons she was using were real, she would be deadly.

Apparently, Haruka's attention was also peaked by Scarlett's brute strength. They met later at the women's changing rooms, keeping contact throughout the years. After Haruka's mentors said they could no longer teach her anything, she decided to accompany Scarlett on her fighting career, mingling both styles.

They were dining with Scarlett's newest sponsor, and later went to a ballet in the city's grand theatre. Scarlett was now more used to arts, having been forced to art galleries and dance presentations by Haruka. The Prima Ballerina Assoluta was just what they needed to become the perfect trio. It turned out that she was the daughter of Scarlett's sponsor, so they were able to meet after the spectacle. She and Haruka walked into her dressing room, to find Roxanne stretching her muscles, though she didn't seem tired at all.

They kept contact frequently, Roxanne going with her father to Scarlett's boxing rings, and Scarlett going with her sponsor to Roxanne's dances. Soon, they all decided to buy a penthouse, divided into three apartments for them, in the middle, a common room.

That was where they were all sitting, waiting for the damn console to start already!

"How was training today, Scarlett?" Haruka sensed her friend become nervous and averted her attention to other things, before she crushed the innocent white piece of technology.

"Homer's stricter than ever, he wants me to train again tomorrow." She grumbled as she impatiently mashed random buttons on the controller.

"I'm glad I don't have to train with him." Roxanne laughed at Scarlett.

"Yeah, but what I ask myself every day, is how you lived with him for seventeen years."

"Some people have something called patience…" Haruka smirked at Scarlett. She scowled at the other laughing women.

"You two keep laughing about my misery, I'll show you someth—whu?" all three turned to the TV, where a bright white light was blinding them. They kept silent as thin white lines started to shoot from the screen and curl around them. They shared one panicked look, then fell unconscious.

* * *

Roxanne opened her eyes against the sunlight, confused by the feathers falling on her. She sat up and looked around. A beautiful garden surrounded her, the women standing there staring at her fearfully. Long years with Haruka taught her to think fast.

_Training. Long ride home. Happy Scarlett. Special edition game. White TV. Garden._

She frowned in confusion.

_Garden._

She stood up and inspected her surroundings. Wide eyed as realization struck her, she turned to look up at a big window. A white bearded man was looking down at her curiously. She silently gulped. Could this be real?

A familiar face appeared next to the old man. They shared a smirk, as usual, much to the old man's confusion. Roxanne sighed and made her way through the door and up the steps, until she met with the three people standing in the library.

* * *

Cold water jolted Scarlett from her dreamless slumber. She coughed and gasped, standing up in a flash. White robed men were surrounding her, confused at her sudden appearance. She recognized where she was in a second, but still couldn't believe it was possible. Her first thoughts were of Haruka and Roxanne, but her attention was quickly averted as heavy stomps behind her made her instinctively duck. The fist aiming for her head hit only air, and she whirled around, eyes narrowed and teeth bared.

"A fighting ring is no place for a woman, wench." The fat brute growled. The men around them snickered.

"Wench?" her voice was low as she spread her feet shoulder-width apart.

* * *

Wind whipped in her face. Barely opening her eyes, she saw through the minuscule slit she was on a wooden platform of sorts. Listening around, she concluded that no one was near her. Haruka stood up and overlooked the beautiful landscape she had only seen in pixels before. Frowning, she turned around and froze. A man in a white hood stood there quietly. She hadn't felt his presence. His hood obscured his eyes, but she recognized the scar on his lower lip.

Ignoring the fact that she might be delirious and dreaming all this, her senses kicked in. This man was emanating waves of danger, making her skin tingle with goosebumps. Never had she met someone potentially dangerous to her.

She smirked and did the first thing that came to her mind. She spread her arms and let her body fall backwards. A few seconds later, she was engulfed in a golden shadow and the unmistakable smell of dry grass. Quickly stepping out of the pile of hay, she looked up to see the stranger staring down at her. She remembered how the game went, and expertly balanced on the thin wooden planks. A soft thud behind her betrayed the man's position. Speeding up, she reached the wall and started nimbly climbing. Not one single breath escaped either her, or the man's mouth.

Reaching the logs, she stood to the side as the man appeared in front of her. Yells were coming from outside. Haruka smirked and nodded her head in direction to the logs. In one sweeping motion, the man cut the rope and let the logs tumble down.

Pained yells were the only thing heard, as they both stared at each other. At every twitch of the man, Haruka adjusted her stance, and every time she did so, the man seemed to tense more. She knew what he was. _Well,_ she smirked. _Takes one to know one._


	3. Chapter 3

Altair froze as he climbed the ladder to perform the leap of faith. He stared at the young woman sprawled on the wooden platform, watching as she woke up. She was tall, for a woman, maybe reaching to his chin. As she turned around, he noticed her strange facial features, probably from the far orient. Altair noticed her studying him, just like he was doing to her. Her eyes lingered a while longer on his scar, then she smirked at him and performed a perfect backwards leap of faith.

Altair ignored his surprise and followed her up to the logs. Her balance was admirable, her climbing skills in league with his own. She seemed to know what he was doing, and nodded to his task. When the noise from the Templars died down, they continued inspecting each other. Altair was certain his face was hidden more than enough, but her eyes seemed to bore into his, making his senses tingle on edge.

"Himura Haruka." Her voice was velvety calm, and implied respect. She bowed a little, like all Orientals did.

"Altair Ibn-La'Ahad." He answered.

"If I may ask, have any other…strangers…appeared?" she tilted her head to the side in curiosity.

"I have seen none."

"May I speak with your master?"

"What business do you have with him?"

"That is none of your concern. I will find my way to him, if you lead me or not." Altair had the feeling that she was right. The thought of a woman making him feel threatened irked him enough, but he still knew when to be cautious against a potential enemy. So he merely turned and led her into the fortress.

Haruka quickly took in her surroundings, injured men scattered around, those that were well continued their training, as if nothing had happened. They went up the steps into the library, where an old man was waiting. He turned and looked curiously at Haruka, before turning to Altair.

"Who is this, Altair?" his voice was loud and strident. Both cringed slightly. Before Altair could respond, Haruka stepped forward and courteously bowed.

"Himura Haruka." Straightening up, she regarded the old man.

"Ah, a traveler from the oriental lands?" he smiled. "I am Al Mualim, child, but, what are you doing in Masyaf? Is it not dangerous for a woman to be alone? Then again, you look like you can take care of yourself."

Altair silently agreed, but respectfully stayed out of the conversation. Before they exchanged more courtesies, they heard the women in the garden gasp and wonder at something. Stepping to the window, Al Mualim hummed in thought.

"Could this be an acquaintance of yours?" he beckoned Haruka closer. As she looked down the garden, a blond woman caught her eye. They smirked at each other, as if something only they understood was extremely ironic. The woman disappeared into the fortress, her soft steps getting closer.

"We apparently ended up in the same place." The woman mused when she appeared in the library. She had a strange accent, similar to Robert de Sable's.

"How convenient." The other replied. "Look who I found." She looked at Altair.

"Ohh…" they shared another knowing smirk. Altair growled lowly at them, only making the blonde giggle. "Just like I imagined." She turned from the Assassin and looked at the old man.

Her face fell, and she looked concerned at Haruka, who shook her head with a warning look. With a fake smile plastered on her face, she turned back to the Assassin's master. All that happened in a mere second, barely registering in the tense atmosphere. Altair narrowed his eyes at them, but kept silent.

"My name is Roxanne Vignon." She tilted her head.

"Al Mualim. Now, I ask myself, how are two obvious strangers here?" Al Mualim seemed interested enough to ignore Altair for a while. The Assassin patiently waited, wanting to know more about the newcomers himself.

"I am currently more concerned about our little red box of chaos." Haruka turned to the French woman. "Any ideas?"

"Little red box of chaos?" Al Mualim asked as the blonde shook her head.

"I THINK YOU'RE READY TO TAKE THAT BACK, HUH, FUCKER?!"

"Ah, there she is." Haruka smiled.

"PROBABLY NEVER HAD YOUR ASS HANDED TO YOU BY A WENCH HAVE YOU?!"

"I think we should go and save the poor soul at her mercy." Roxanne giggled at Al Mualim's worried expression.

"Yes, we should." The women laughed as they led the way. Al Mualim signaled for Altair to stay alert. The assassin nodded, following the newcomers to the training grounds.

* * *

Outside, the only word to describe the situation was indeed chaos. A large group of men formed a ring around the training grounds, yelling loudly. In the middle, a woman was surrounded by five thugs, each one easily three times her size. She lunged for the one in front of her, her fist violently connected with his diaphragm, making him fall on his knees out of breath. Another man wrapped his arms around the redhead's shoulders from behind and lifted her up, number three attacking her from the front. She kicked him in the chest and shot her head back, impacting with the other's nose. The sickening crunch made the audience hiss, as he unbalanced and fell backwards, the nape of his neck hitting the fence, knocking him out. She fell and quickly steadied herself, before number four and five attacked together. Smashing both their heads together, she left the unconscious heap of muscle on the floor. Turning to number two, sporting a bloody nose, she growled, and much to the men's surprise, the man turned on his heel and fled.

"I'll teach you to respect men, you little whore." Number one had regained his breath, starting to stand up. A powerful high kick was delivered to the man's chin, making him stumble back.

"I'LL SHOW YOU RESPECT WHEN I THINK YOU DESERVE IT, YOU PIG!" another kick to the man's stomach made him kneel again. An elbow to the back rendered him helpless on his stomach. With her foot, the woman rolled him over, and straddled his chest. Taking a handful of his robe, she lifted him with her left fist, the other pulling back.

Suddenly, she was lifted up by familiar hands, but still fought against the only grip that could hold her.

"LET ME AT HIM! I'LL FINISH HIM RIGHT NOW!"

"Scarlett." The velvety voice sent shivers up the men's spines. "That is enough."

"ENOUGH MY ASS!"

"My, such language…" Al Mualim chuckled. Scarlett snapped her eyes in his direction. They looked neon in her rage.

"YOU'RE SUCH A COCK SUCKING BITCH ASS MOTHER FUCKING LOOSE WHORE OF AN ASSASSIN MASTER, YOU DON'T EVEN TRAIN THESE BITCHES RIGHT! THESE GUYS ARE THE STEREOTYPICAL THICK-BROWED FELLOWS WHO LOOK LIKE THEY JUST CRAWLED OUT OF A CAVE, LOST THEIR TAIL AND LEARNED HOW TO WALK UPRIGHT! WHAT KIND OF PLACE IS THIS?!"

"Scarlett!" Haruka hissed. "This is inadequate!"

"That little freak needs to be straight-jacketed and locked away!" the man on the floor called. His voice was a pathetic whimper, making Haruka smirk, despite her friend's behavior. She increased her hold as Scarlett began to thrash violently, screaming bloody murder at the poor man.

"Scarlett, you're making a scene!" Roxanne came over to them, trying to calm her down.

"IF YOU DON'T LET ME AT HIM YOU WON'T GET A SCENE, BUT THE WHOLE PLAY! I'LL SHOW HIM, I'LL MAKE HIM SCREAM MERCY AND GO CRAWLING BACK TO HIS MOMMY, THE POOR WOMAN HAS GOT TO BE ASHAMED OF A SON ACTING LIKE A PUSSY! OW!"

Roxanne had slapped her across the face, an angry red mark adorning her fair cheek. Scarlett breathed deeply in, then went limp in Haruka's death-grip.

"Feeling better now?"

"Yes." She mumbled, her head lolling back on Haruka's shoulder, her knees buckling.

"Are you calm?"

"Yes."

"Can I let you go?"

"Yes."

She straightened up and cocked her head to the side, a faint cracking noise coming from it. The men watched her in caution.

"What are you all suckers staring at?" she cracked her knuckles for emphasis. Everyone bustled around, trying to look busy.

"That was impressive young lady." Al Mualim stepped closer. He saw Haruka nudge Scarlett with her elbow. The redhead sighed and ran a hand across her face.

"Sorry for my behavior. Won't happen again." She mumbled.

"I hope no permanent harm was done." He asked.

"No."

"Well then, now that you are calm, why don't we come in to talk?"

"Why don't we?" Scarlett sighed sarcastically. Haruka sent her a warning look, but she just shrugged and followed the master assassin.

"Where did you learn to fight like that, child?" Al Mualim asked.

"Um…" Scarlett looked at her friends. How were they going to explain themselves?

"Where are my manners, you're all probably very tired from travelling, you should rest." The old man motioned to a novice. "Achmed will show you to our guest chambers."

Nodding in thanks, Haruka led the other two away, following the novice.

"Altair, you met the Asian first, correct?" Al Mualim thoughtfully stroked his beard.

"Yes, master."

"What do you think of her?"

Altair thought for a moment. The woman didn't show any signs of aggression towards him, but his previous thoughts about her were confirmed when she held the other redheaded one, with apparently no effort at all.

"She is dangerous, master."

"Strong words coming from my head assassin." The old man pulled a small dagger from his robes. "Speaking of ranks…"

* * *

The room they were escorted to wasn't large, or luxurious, but it was nice. There were thick rugs and cushions everywhere, small tables scattered around. Scarlett splayed her fingers on the door after the servant closed it and tested its strength. She did the same with the three windows in the room.

"Clear."

Roxanne opened the only cabinet in the room, big enough to hide a man. She looked behind it, then up to the banisters on the ceiling.

"Clear."

Haruka sensed no one besides them in the room, nor outside the door or windows.

"Clear."

They sighed, all tension leaving them, and plopped next to each other on a big pile of cushions.

"Where did you get the game, Scarlett?" Roxanne started mentally forming a timeline.

"I got it from a fan, after I left training." She pulled her hair to the side and started fiddling with the tips.

"What did he look like?"

"Well, it was already dark out, and the guy was wearing a hood, so…" she looked up. "He was definitely taller than me…"

"Anyone's taller than you, Scarlett." Haruka grinned at her.

"Shut up, you're the one who's freakishly tall."

"Altair is taller."

"You saw Altair?" Scarlett spit out the hair she was chewing on and turned to Roxanne, who nodded. "Is he cute? Is he handsome? Is he sexy? Is he rapeable? Tell me, woman!" she stood on her knees and grabbed the blonde's shoulders and shook them playfully.

"You know…I saw him first…" Haruka inspected her nails.

"Aww." Scarlett released Roxanne and lay down.

After a moment of silence, they started laughing.

"Why are we laughing?" the Asian asked, a big grin still on her face.

"So we don't cry in confusion?" Roxie shrugged, also smiling.

"No seriously, what's happening?" Scarlett lifted her shirt and inspected a bruise from earlier.

"No idea. But how are we going to deal with this?" Haruka poked the purple blotch on the Irish girl's stomach, making her wince uncomfortably.

"We could become Assassins too. You're already one, Haru-chan."

Haruka stood up and walked to a window.

"We can't be Assassins, women are not allowed. They won't let us go that easily, so we coul—"

"Like we can't escape." Scarlett scoffed and pulled her shirt down again. Roxanne agreed and started braiding the red hair on her lap. Haruka turned around and leaned her back on the windowsill.

"I know, but if this is really all true, we don't want to call too much attention. And just our looks and clothes already do."

"They won't harm us, at least not now." Scarlett sighed. "Not with the 'don't harm the innocent' crap they believe in."

"Hm, true, but you're anything but innocent." Roxanne tugged a strand of hair and grinned.

"Ha, ha, very funny." Scarlett yanked her hair back, the pretty braid falling loose.

Haruka sighed and pointedly looked to the door. "I know you're out there, why don't you sop eavesdropping so we can work this out together?" Scarlett shared a smirk with Roxanne as the door opened and the old man from before came in, followed by a small group of servants.

"I am impressed." He said.

"Well, what will you decide?" Haruka crossed her arms.

"First a few questions." He motioned to the servants. A woman brought a pile of blankets, another opened the empty wardrobe and started putting what looked to be robes away, and two last brought bread, cheese and a jar full of some liquid. Haruka sent a pointed look to Roxanne, who nodded.

"How do you know so much of the creed?"

"We study different beliefs." Scarlett lied expertly. "You Assassins and the Templars are our main focus."

"Main focus?"

"Your quarrels are so entertaining to decipher…" she tilted her head to the side and smiled.

"Do you even know what this is all about, child? This is not something we do to entertain you philosophers."

"I've been called a lot of things, but that one's new." Scarlet laughed. It was the ragged sound a liquor hardened throat.

"Child you do not realize that what we do, is to ensure the safety of people, the Templars, they only wan—"

"How many Pieces of Eden do you already have?" Haruka interrupted. "The one is Jerusalem was the Apple, right?"

"How do yo—"

"Ignore the rule about women, allow us to become Assassins, and help Altair regain his status as Head Assassin back." She cut in again. Al Mualim's eyes were almost bulging. "Let us rest while he questions the basket weaver, tomorrow, when he leaves for Damascus, we join him."

Al Mualim's hand was on his sword. It was obvious even to the servants that he was nervous, but he forced himself to breathe deeply, and release his sword.

"Very well." He turned to leave, the servants following him.

"Oh, and one more thing." Roxanne called from near the food. "Could we have something that is not poisoned, please?"

Al Mualim heard Haruka snicker, and turned to her. The question on his expression was evident. Nevertheless, he spoke.

"Who are you three?"

"Roxanne is our personal little doctor, you see. As for Scarlett, she protects us from any physical threat." She smiled.

"And you?"

"Me?" she slowly stepped closer. "I'm the one they call when things get ugly."

After a moment, he nodded, and left, the last servant closing the door quietly.

"You think we scared him?" Scarlett smiled at Haruka.

"No." she stared thoughtfully at the door. "But he's not going to try anything funny so soon. Come in."

A scared looking little boy came in, carrying a tray of food. Roxanne watched him eye the food hungrily as he took the poisoned tray away.

"Boy." She called. He stared wide eyed at her. She broke a big piece of bread and cheese and held it out for him. "That food in your arms is poisoned. Don't eat it." The little boys eyes got even bigger. She wiggled the bread and cheese in his face. He slowly stretched his arm out and took it.

"Thank you, miss." And he stuffed the food in his mouth.

After he left, they all sat around the small table, eating the bread and cheese, along with some dried fruits.

"Is this wine?" Scarlett looked into her glass.

"No, that's the blood of virgins." Haruka rolled her eyes.

"Oh, well then…" she tipped her head back and drained it. "Not bad."

They shared another laugh. After quietly finishing their meal, they lay on the cushions and listened to the darkness. They didn't feel the need to make a plan. They always improvised, always danced to the music. That way they avoided many unpredicted surprises. That was what Scarlett liked most about her friends. No matter what, they could always count on each other to feel safe.

* * *

"I am so not wearing that. Nu-uh." Roxanne threw the robe back at Scarlett. She and Haruka were already dressed, an impatient novice standing in the hallway.

"Roxie, come on, we talked about this."

"Look, I'm sorry, I can't have anyone see me in men's clothes!"

"I wear men's clothing, what's the problem with that?" Scarlett asked. Roxanne merely glared at her. "You don't know anybody here! Coco Chanel isn't even gonna be born in another few hundred years!" she tried to force Roxanne into the robe.

"No!" she flung the robe away.

"I give up." Scarlett threw her hands up in the air, and stomped out of the room. Maybe a walk would set things straight.

Last night she got little sleep, thinking about all that was happening. They hadn't discussed it yet, and she doubted they would, but what was itching the back of her mind was Al Mualim. It would be just like his character to use them for his plan to rule the world. Speak of the devil…

"Good morning, child." He stepped out of the library. Scarlett's feet had taken her to the fighting rink, where men were starting their early training. "Are you all ready?"

"No." was all Scarlett said. She would not make it easy for the old man.

"What seems to be the problem?"

"Robes."

"What about them?" Al Mualim's voice was still calm, but years and years of training had Scarlett know the skill of annoyance down to an art. She was getting there.

"Too big."

"We could have them fitted."

"Not enough time."

"Are you having any kind of problem child?" Ah, there, he was finally snapping.

"In my mind, yes." Scarlett turned from the rink and stared at the old man. And kept staring. And staring…

"If you need any help, feel free to speak to me or any of the Assassins. Altair has all the information you will need for now, make sure to leave before midday." And with that he turned and left.

Scarlett smirked to herself and turned back to the training rink. Some men were watching the two novices fight, yelling out instructions and tips. The wooden swords were lined with red chalk, marking the opponent's white robes where he would supposedly be cut.

"Clever." She muttered under her breath.

"What is?" a black robed man stood next to her.

"The red chalk." She pointed. "Though you never learn to dodge properly until you get hit for real." She turned. "Scarlett."

"Malik A-Sayf. Are you the redhead from yesterday?"

Scarlett pushed her hood down and studied the man. He was indeed missing an arm.

"Do you find this amusing?" he frowned at her smirk towards his arm.

"Not at all. It must have taken a lot of courage, whatever you did."

"Hmph." Malik turned back to the rink. "This unfortunate accident also led to me losing my brother."

"And what of the one who caused it?"

Malik looked back at Scarlett and frowned.

"Altair probably didn't mean it." She turned back to the rink. "Sure, he was selfish, and snobbish, and generally a pain in the ass, but he'll learn in time. He probably won't say he's sorry, but I'm sure he is."

"And how do you know him so well?"

Scarlett just shrugged and kept staring at the fighting. They had moved on to fists. The sight made her scoff loudly and turn to walk away.

"Care for a round?"

"You shouldn't be asking a woman that." She turned back to smirk at Malik.

"I could hear you from the medical room." He raised his eyebrow.

"Shouldn't you be resting? Recovering, or something like that?"

"I don't know where you come from, but our medicine is the most advanced in the holy land."

Scarlett kept her mouth shut. She smiled and followed Malik closer to the rink, and waited until the two novices were sent off.

"If your arm starts bleeding again, don't blame me." She chuckled.

"Don't go crying to your friends after I pin you down."

"Oh, if you manage that, I won't be going aaanywheeere…" Scarlet grinned impishly at the mental images.

If Malik caught on to what she was thinking, he didn't show it, but instead started for a simple punch. Scarlett easily dodged it.

"Do you want me to tie my arm?" she mocked.

"You'll be needing all the arms you can get to lay a hit on me." Malik replied as he threw a series of punches and kicks. The image of Indian gods came to Scarlett's mind, making her laugh.

"We'll see about that. Want to bet anything?" she kept dodging everything he threw at her.

"What do you want?"

"What do you have?"

"Are you two having tea or fighting?" the rink instructor asked. They ignored him.

"Pouch of gold coins?" Malik had enough anyway, and it wasn't like he couldn't pickpocket.

"Not interested in money." A thought came to her head. "What is the strongest you have to drink?"

"A wine, laid down by my grandfather."

Scarlett licked her lips at the thought.

"Perfect, then." Neither of them were sweating, but since Scarlett was only dodging, Malik was the one panting.

"Ah, that would be a very big prize, what do you have to offer for it?"

"Why do you want to know, since you are going to lose?"

"You haven't even tried fighting. Or are you afraid?"

"Ohh, I'm not afraid, I just don't think you'll be winning."

"Alright, suppose that you are wrong and I do win—which I will—what could you give me?"

'Time for the kill.' Scarlett positioned herself.

"I'll do anything you want." She said in the most deep, velvety voice she could manage.

Malik faltered. That was when she struck. A swift kick to the stomach, another to the back of his knees, and he was coughing on the floor.

She held out her hand and helped Malik up. "You okay?"

"Yes." He coughed a little.

"Great then!" she grinned. "Whenever we stop by, I'll take that wine." She hopped out of the rink and walked up the stairs, where Haruka and Roxanne (now fully dressed) were waiting.

"I'll be going to Jerusalem."

"Oh, right. I'll meet you there, then." She winked at the man clutching his stomach and followed her friends and Altair.

"Making new friends?" Haruka smirked at the lightly panting redhead, who just smiled.

They were given horses as soon as they left the main gates, galloping towards Damascus.

* * *

Please Review, it makes me feel loved 3


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